


First Kiss

by ephemeraa



Category: Last Podcast on The Left (Podcast) RPF
Genre: Ben Kissel - Freeform, Ben lifts Marcus, Blowjobs, Dominant Marcus, First Kiss, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Marcus Parks - Freeform, POV Ben, Slow Burn, Submissive Ben
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-28
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-13 19:01:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 16,588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29033583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ephemeraa/pseuds/ephemeraa
Summary: Ben gets to know himself a little bit better.
Relationships: Ben Kissel/Marcus Parks
Comments: 5
Kudos: 15





	1. Chapter 1

It was late night when the boys got back to their hotel. Ben was shouldering a half slumped Marcus, who had vomited outside the bar on the way to the Uber. After the gig, a fan had bought them round after round of tequila shots and, not wanting to be rude, and partly in a misguided attempt to out-drink Ben, Marcus and Henry taken shot after shot. Henry was not in much better shape than Marcus, but was still cognizant and standing at least, much to Ben’s relief.

“Alright, come on Marcus, almost there,” Ben struggled to shift Marcus’s limp body so he could push the elevator button. “Do you want to help me here Henry?”

Henry looked over, bleary-eyed. “This is me helping you buddy. I’m helping by not helping.”

“What does that even mean Henry?”

“I dunno.” Henry leaned back against the wall, eyes closed.

As Ben was about to respond, Marcus groaned and swayed. Ben steadied him.

“Mmm, Ben?” Marcus blinked. “What’s happening?”

“I’m taking you to your room. And possibly Henry too.”

“Thanks, big guy, but I can take it from here,” Henry said. The elevator door dinged. Henry’s floor. “Goodnight, fuckers…” Henry trundled out of the elevator.

The door closed. Marcus lolled on Ben’s arm.

“Marcus. Marcus, hey. You alright there buddy?”

“I think so…”

The elevator dinged again. Ben’s room was on the second floor next to Henry’s, while Marcus’s was on the third floor.

“Think you’ve got it from here?” Ben stepped away. 

“Oh yeah man. I’m good.” Marcus walked out of the elevator. He stumbled a few steps and fell against the wall.

“Shit, Marcus.” The elevator door started to close and Ben quickly stepped off. Marcus slid to the floor.

Ben rushed over. Marcus had fallen on his front. Ben lifted up his head, balancing him against the wall. Marcus smiled drunkenly. “Hi Ben.”

“You scared me. Want me to help you to your room?”

Marcus peered up at Ben towering over him. “Yeah man. Thanks.”

Ben grabbed Marcus’s long arms and hoisted him to his feet. Marcus toppled into Ben’s side almost immediately, crumpling down to the floor.

“God damn it. Marcus? Marcus?” Ben kneeled back down over his friend. Marcus’s eyes were closed. He wasn’t moving.

“Marcus, what do you want me to do? Is there someone I can call for you?” It was a stupid question, Ben knew, there was no one in this town that knew them but Henry, who would be of no help, and Travis, who had gone to bed hours ago.

Ben looked around the hallway. It was empty and silent except for the hum of the ice machine down the hall. Ben tapped Marcus’s cheek. Marcus’s eyelids fluttered and he groaned.

Ben sighed. “Alright Marcus, if you can hear me, I’m going to take you to your room now. Do you have your room key?”

No response.

“I’m going to have to lift you. Is that okay?”

Still nothing.

“Alright then.” Ben slid his arms under Marcus, easily lifting the smaller man. Marcus’s head rolled against Ben’s shoulder. “Which room is yours?”

When Marcus was still silent, Ben sighed and called the elevator. They could go to his room. Besides, he felt worried about leaving Marcus alone in this state.

They travelled down to the second floor, Ben holding Marcus in his arms like a child. Marcus looked fast asleep, his face totally relaxed. Some of the color had gone out of his face, but other than that, he could have been sleeping at home in bed.

The elevator door dinged and Ben stepped out. As he walked down the hall, Ben noticed that the carpet runner was covered in maroon diamonds, interlocking with one another in a pattern that made his head spin. He was not sober either. He deliberately looked ahead to avoid the swirling pattern, feeling the vomit start to rise in his own throat.

They reached Ben’s room. He fumbled in his jeans pocket, yanked the key from his wallet and swiped it across the pad. The door opened and, carefully balancing Marcus’s full dead weight, Ben maneuvered him inside.

The hotel room was nothing special: a bed, a desk, three black and white photographs, and a brown leather couch. Ben’s red duffel bag was sitting on the bed, unopened. 

Ben stepped over the coffee table in one long stride and laid Marcus down on the couch. He held his hand above Marcus’s open mouth and felt the heat of Marcus’s breath. Good. Still breathing.

Ben stood and crossed to the bathroom, turning on the sink to splash cool water on his face. He looked like shit. He hardly slept in hotel rooms, always disturbed by any sound from outside or the hallway, and the circles under his eyes were proof.

As he dried his face, he heard stirring in the other room. Ben rounded the corner and leaned against the outer bathroom wall. Marcus was sitting up, looking dazed. Marcus said something Ben couldn’t quite hear.

“What’s that Marcus?”

“Water.” Marcus said louder. “Water. Please.”

“Oh. Yeah, sure,” Ben turned back into the bathroom, took the plastic wrapper off a styrofoam cup, and filled it to the brim from the sink. He crossed back and handed the cup to Marcus, who drank from it greedily.

“So good.” Marcus’s blue eyes closed for a moment, then batted open. “Hey Ben?”

“Yeah?” Ben stood over the couch.

“Can I stay here tonight? I’m not feeling so well.” Marcus looked small and tired. Exhausted, actually. His skin had gone an even paler shade of light ash.

“Yeah, sure. Is the couch okay?”

Marcus grinned. He looked almost back to his normal self for a moment. “Enh, I’ve slept on worse.” He patted the leather next to him.

“Are you going to be okay?”

“Aw, Hell, yeah I’ll be alright. Just had a few too many I think.” His voice was slurried, his accent hanging around each vowel.

“Alright man. Let me know if you need anything?”

“There is one thing you could do for me.”

“What’s that Marcus?”

“Come here.”

Ben bent down.

“What’s up bud?”

“Closer.”

Ben furrowed his brow but assented and knelt all the way to the ground. He and Marcus were face to face now. Marcus put his hands on either side of Ben’s face and, in one motion, pulled himself up to kiss Ben sweetly on the lips.

Ben startled under Marcus’s touch, but the kiss happened so quickly he had no time to react. Then, just as quickly, Marcus released himself back down to the couch and sighed, “Thank you,” closed his eyes, and seemed to fall asleep.

Ben straightened, stunned. He brushed his hand over his lips, as though to check for a physical indication of what had just happened. His lips were hot and dry. He stood for a moment, looking down at Marcus on the couch. Then he walked to the bed and sat. He could hear Marcus’s loud but even breathing.

What had just happened? He knew Marcus had experimented in college but he had thought those days were over. Marcus had had a long string of girlfriends since Ben had known him, and each one seemed to blend into the last. Marcus was totally hammered, it must’ve been a weird accident. Ben put his hand to his lips again. The kiss had been nicer than he would’ve expected.

You’re wasted, Ben chided himself.

Marcus murmured something in his sleep. Ben shook his head to clear the thoughts. He was too drunk to deal with this right now. Eyeing Marcus, who had rolled to face the inside of the couch, Ben gently set his duffel bag on the floor next to the bed. He kicked off his jeans and slid between the layers of cold sheets.

Ben fell asleep quickly, riding the waves of tequila spiraling through his head, making blueish purple lacework patterns in the dark behind his eyes. He must’ve been way more drunk than he had thought he was.


	2. Chapter 2

Ben awoke again slowly, groggy with sleep and hangover and layers of dreams. There was a sandy grit sticking his eyelashes together. The sun arced in through the wide open curtains.

Fuck. Last night. Ben cringed as his memories came pounding back. Literally pounding; he needed a glass of water. He sat up and cradled his head in his hands. As he looked around the room, he noticed the couch empty. On the opposite side of the bed, a Marcus-shaped lump was completely obscured by blankets.

“Marcus,” he hissed. Ben prodded Marcus’s shoulder.

Marcus rolled over to face Ben. “Oh god. What time is it?” He blinked sleepily. “Where am I?”

Ben started to answer but Marcus groaned loudly as he sat up. “Oh god, my head.” The blankets fell away to reveal Marcus’s bare, pale chest. He must have shed his t-shirt at some point in the night.

“I brought you back here last night. You threw up when we left the bar.” Ben’s eyes swept over Marcus’s lean torso, exposed all the way to his jutting hip bones. He retrained his eyes to the desk across the room.

Marcus nodded, winced at the pain. “Why am I in your bed?”

“Um. I’m not sure. I think you must have come over here in the night…” Ben trailed off as he noticed Marcus’s t-shirt, abandoned on the floor next to his bed, crumpled with his jeans and boxers. Ben was suddenly flushing. A knot formed in his stomach.

“Why am I naked, Ben?” Marcus’s voice was bewildered and slightly accusatory.

“I—I don’t know! I could ask you the same question.” Ben’s tone was indignant but his cheeks were turning a deeper red by the minute.

“What the Hell am I doing in your bed?” Marcus pulled the sheets up over his exposed chest.

“I put you on the couch! You must’ve gotten in here in the night.”

“Why would I do that?”

“I don’t know!”

“Ben, tell me what happened.”

“Nothing! At least not what you’re thinking—”

“What does that mean?”

“Nothing!” Ben balked. “Nothing, nothing happened.”

“Ben, you’re not looking at me. Look me in the eye and tell me nothing happened.”

“Nothing happened.”

“You’re lying.”

Ben tried to stop himself but the words spilled out, “Look you were just drunk, it was a one time thing, I’ll never mention it to anyone—”

“Never mention what to anyone?” Marcus was yelling now. “Ben, I wake up naked, in your bed, and you’re acting really weird—”

Marcus’s eyes were furious. Ben was aghast. “I didn’t do anything! You were the one that kissed me!”

“What?”

“We kissed Marcus. That’s all that happened though, I swear! I have no idea how you got in my bed or why you’re naked. Please,” Ben’s voice quieted, “I would never do anything to hurt you Marcus.”

Marcus stared at him.

“I know you wouldn’t Ben,” Marcus let go of the sheets, but his voice was still taut with anger. “Can you hand me my clothes?”

“Sure, Marcus.” Ben got up and picked up the wad of clothing.

“Can you turn around for a minute?” Ben turned, waited for the click of the bathroom door.

Ben sat down on the bed. He felt angry and ashamed. For what he wasn’t sure. He stood, picked up his own blue jeans from the floor.

Marcus reopened the door a crack. “Hey Ben?”

“Yeah?”

“Could I borrow a t-shirt? This one stinks.”

“Oh yeah, of course.” Ben went to his duffel bag and grabbed a rolled black t-shirt from the top. Any t-shirt of his would be enormous on Marcus but it was better than nothing.

Marcus opened the door fully, wearing only his jeans.

“Um. Here you go, “ Ben said dumbly and handed the t-shirt over.

“Thanks,” Marcus slipped it over his head. It hung off his slender frame, dwarfing him.

“Oh hey, your wallet’s on the ground by the couch.”

“Thanks,” Marcus said, nonplussed. Ben stared as Marcus walked to the couch and picked up his wallet, unsure what to do or say. Marcus brushed past Ben, crossed back to the bathroom. The water ran for a moment inside, then Marcus re-emerged. Ben held his breath.

“See you at breakfast.” Marcus still sounded angry. Ben’s heart sunk.

“Yeah, see you down there,” Ben muttered. Marcus gave him a look that Ben couldn’t read and then opened the room door and left Ben alone in the room.

Ben watched as the door closed slowly. He walked over to it and clicked it the rest of the way shut. He leaned his head against it and groaned.


	3. Chapter 3

It was an unusually quiet breakfast; no one felt much like talking. Even Henry was almost silent, ripping his waffle into smaller and smaller pieces with his hands before dunking it in syrup. Ben kept sliding glances at Marcus, who seemed totally absorbed in pushing the food around his plate.

They checked out of the hotel late. Marcus was completely wordless as Ben put his bag into the van. For the rest of the day, Marcus just stared out the window. Ben glanced up at the back of Marcus’s head in the passenger seat and felt a pang. He had been completely transparent about everything that had happened between them; still, he felt terrible.

The day passed, then two, soon a week. Marcus was cordial but cold. Ben and Marcus spoke the bare minimum. If Travis and Henry noticed, they hadn’t said anything. The shows went exactly as they always had; Henry yelling, Ben yelling over him, and Marcus giggling until they got back on topic. Sometimes, Ben would look over at Marcus onstage and try to catch Marcus’s eye, but Marcus would quickly look away.

And then there were the dreams.

It started one morning when Ben was tossing in his hotel room bed, half awake and half asleep. Some banging in the hallway had woken him for a moment. When he slid back to sleep, Marcus was there in the bed with him, smiling that slightly-off smile that made his eyes crinkle up. Marcus’s blue, blue eyes that fans went crazy for, ringed with dark circles, almost hidden under his mop of dark hair. Marcus leaned in and whispered, “Hi Ben,” and then just as quickly as he came, he was gone. Ben would startle awake, breathing heavily, his heart pounding, with a pleasant warmth in his stomach and groin. 

The dreams went on like this, Marcus giggling and disappearing. One morning, after the dream had played through his subconscious several times, each iteration Marcus moving closer and closer to him, to the point that he could almost feel Marcus’s thin frame press against him, Ben awoke, stood shakily and went into the hotel bathroom.

He aimed his painfully hard penis at the toilet and, with effort, pissed. He rinsed his hands in the sink and looked in the mirror. He looked ridiculous, his red hair standing up at odd angles and his bushy eyebrows mussed. Red lines ran down the side of his face from the pillow.

He sighed and turned to the shower. He cranked the dial to a suitable temperature and stripped, stepped into the stream of water. The shower head was too short for him, making him crouch, but the water felt amazing. His taut shoulder and back muscles, sore from sleeping in strange beds every night, loosened under the heat.

Even after pissing, his erection was still poking him in the stomach. Experimentally, he lightly stroked himself. It felt so good to touch after having been on the road with so little time to himself. His dick was wet from the shower and a slippery bit of precum. He wrapped his hand around himself and pumped, closing his eyes and enjoying the sensation. He let out a moan. The release was incredible...so what if it was because of…

Marcus. He stopped for a guilty moment. He shouldn’t be doing this. Marcus was one of his closest friends. Not to mention everything that had passed between them. His hand wavered on his dick for a moment, then he turned off the shower water and slung back the curtain.

He grabbed a towel and ran it through his hair. Then he tied the towel around his waist, his cock pressing a sharp line into the fabric, binding it tightly. He could control himself. _Marcus is your best friend,_ he reminded himself. _This is just a phase. It will pass._

He hoped. He really did.


	4. Chapter 4

The hotel for the next night turned out to be a cedar lodge with open porches on the front of every room. As they pulled in to the snow covered parking lot, Ben glanced over the lawn. A huge statue of a copper horse reared in front of the snowdrifts.

Henry had also spotted it. “Dude, that thing is fuckin’ sweet!”

“Holy Hell,” Marcus’s breath fogged the cold passenger-side window, “It’s enormous.”

“I think this is the first thing you see when they drag you into Hell,” Ben intoned.

“That’s Cerberus, you goon. Look at the size of it! I want to fucking ride it!” Henry yelled excitedly.

They pulled into the carport and unloaded the bags. Ben noticed that Marcus wasn’t wearing his coat, only a thin t-shirt. He was shivering. For an odd moment, Ben wanted to offer his jacket, but thought better of it.

Travis walked back outside. “Alright, I’ve got the keys.” He handed one to Ben. "There are only two rooms this time, they were all booked. We'll have to double up."

Henry interjected, “I’m with Travis! Kissel you snore like a bear in wintertime.”

“Alright so Ben and Marcus? That okay with everyone?”

“Why wouldn’t it be,” Ben mumbled.

“Fine by me.” Ben disliked the dryness in Marcus’s tone.

“Rooms are all on the fourth floor.”

They got into the elevator, rode up. The signs directed them to rooms 414 and 420, making Henry cackle.

“You’re like a fourteen year old," Ben muttered.

“If you mean that I’m excellent at the art of romancing myself, then yes.”

Ben sighed. He pulled out the sleeve Travis had given him with the two keys: 414. He stopped.

“Alright, this is us,” he said to Marcus. “See you all later.”

“Have fun mackin’ on each other!” Henry laughed. Ben stopped but reminded himself there was no possible way Henry could have known.

Ben opened the door and Marcus followed him in.

“This is nice,” Marcus said.

Ben looked around. A queen bed, tv, and a sitting area. And the view: A full glass sliding door that opened onto a wooden patio.

Marcus dropped his bag on the bed, claiming it, and started rifling through it. He pulled out his coat and cigarettes. “I’m going to go out for a smoke.”

“Okay,” Ben put his bag on the couch and sat down next to it. He hadn’t known Marcus was smoking again, but he wasn’t surprised; Marcus tried to quit and failed almost every other month. “I’ll take the couch then?”

“You better.” Marcus walked past Ben and slid open the glass door.

Ben watched Marcus’s back as he lit his cigarette, looking out over the snowy expanse of the view. In the distance, the peaks of snowy mountains were visible under the grey sky. Ben pulled out his phone and fiddled with it, then glanced again at Marcus's silhouette, his face occasionally illuminated orange as he took a drag. Marcus drew his coat tightly around himself with one arm, leaning against the balcony. Ben had never really looked at Marcus's body, his strong shoulders and arms and thin waist. Ben thought of how easily he had lifted Marcus, how small Marcus had felt in his arms.

Ben let his eyes wander over Marcus for a moment more, then began pulling sweatshirts from his bag for a makeshift pillow and blankets. As he rolled his red sweatshirt into a tight spiral, the glass door opened and Marcus came back inside.

“View’s nice.” Marcus sat down on the bed.

“Oh yeah? I’ll have to check it out,”

“I love the mountains. They’re kind of amazing. Reminds me of being a kid.”

“There are mountains in Texas?”

“My dad would take us to see the big ones sometimes during summer break if my brother and I were picking too many fights with each other. Kept us occupied.” Marcus swung his legs up onto the bed.

“Oh really?” Ben wanted to keep Marcus talking as long as possible.

“Mhmm.” Marcus seemed lost in thought.

“We’ve seen some pretty good mountains on tour before.”

“I’ve never seen these ones. I’ve never been this far West before.”

“Oh…” Ben said. “California isn’t calling your name?”

“Guess not.” Marcus chuckled.

Ben felt sudden urge to talk to Marcus. This might be the last time they are alone for a long time and with Henry and Travis sequestered down the hall, he might get some honest answers.

“Hey Marcus?”

“Yeah?”

“We need to talk.”

“About what?” Marcus evaded casually.

“What happened last week. Why you’ve been ignoring me.”

“Mmm.” Marcus looked down, studied his fingernails. Looped his watch around his wrist a few times.

“You don’t really think I did anything...do you?"

“Christ, of course not Ben."

“So what is it?”

Marcus’s expression was strange, strained.

“Look whatever is bothering you, I just want to know that we’re cool. That’s all that matters to me.”

“We’re cool, Ben,” Marcus’s voice was sincere. “Seriously. I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry too.”

They looked at one another wordlessly. Then Marcus said, “Do you want to call the guys and see if they want to get some dinner? I’m starved.”

“Me too.” Ben was relieved. “I’ll eat anything.”

“Cool, I’ll text Henry.”

Ben nodded. “Marcus?”

“Yeah, Ben?”

“You’re my best friend.”

Marcus cocked his head. “You’re my best friend too, Ben.”

Ben hesitated a beat. “I love you, buddy.”

“I love you too, Ben,” Marcus smiled, the light from his phone illuminating his eyes, his lopsided smile, casting him momentarily in a halo of pure blue light.

Ben was astounded.


	5. Chapter 5

Dinner was quick and forgettable, at one of two restaurants in the tiny town. Ben ate as if for the first time in months, filling himself with bland shrimp and dinner rolls. Marcus seemed more relaxed too, laughing louder at Henry’s jokes as he picked at his plate. Henry ordered a pitcher of margaritas for the table, disappeared quickly, followed by a second pitcher.

“I’m gonna hit the balcony,” Marcus said as soon as they got back up to the room.

“Can I join you?”

“Sure, if you don’t mind the smoke.”

“I’ve inhaled plenty of your secondhand smoke.”

It was completely dark out now, the only light coming up from the parking lot down below. Ben leaned against the railing. Marcus sat down on a lawn chair and fished his cigarettes out of his pocket.

“Shit, I’m fucking drunk,” Marcus laughed as he flipped the cigarette. He had tried to light the wrong end.

Ben laughed. “It really is nice out here Marcus.”

“Hm?”

“You were talking earlier about how much you like the mountains.”

“You can’t see the mountains right now."

“Yeah but, the air is nice, I guess.”

Marcus chuckled. He leaned back.

“Ben, if I wanted to talk to you about something serious right now, would that be okay?”

“What is it?”

Marcus stood and walked over to the balcony next to Ben but remained silent, sipping his cigarette.

“You know, those things’ll kill ya.”

Marcus giggled, letting out a puff of smoke from between his lips. “You know, I think I’ve heard that before…”

Ben waited until Marcus continued quietly, “Waking up next to you like that the other day, I felt like an idiot.”

Ben frowned. “Why?”

“I can’t believe that I would risk our friendship like that. Even before you told me, I knew I had done something. Hell, I even half remember kissing you. I’m sorry Kissel, I—” Marcus stopped. “I’m sorry I let things get out of hand. I know you were just trying to be a good friend.”

“Don’t blame yourself Marcus. You were hammered! Everyone does things they regret when they’re drunk.”

Marcus shook his head. “No, Ben, you’re not understanding.”

“What’s that?”

“I wanted it to happen. I wanted to kiss you. And I wanted to do more than that, if I’m being honest.”

“Ah.” Ben squirmed, unsure how to respond. “It was just a one time thing though. Right Marcus?”

“I don’t know, Ben.” Marcus flicked his half finished cigarette to the ground, grinding it with his shoe. “I’m not sure it was.”

Ben’s head was spinning. The redness was creeping up his cheeks. In his stomach, tiny wings of—what? Terror? Marcus had never been open with him like this before. And the things he was saying—Ben had no idea what to think about them.

“Marcus, we’re friends,” Ben said slowly. “I think of you as a friend.”

“I’m sorry I brought it up.”

Ben reached over and placed his large hand on Marcus’s shoulder. Marcus looked up at him, his face quiet and intense.

“Thank you for telling me,” Ben said, and was surprised by how sincerely he meant it. Ben pulled Marcus into a big bear hug. He admired Marcus for being honest about his feelings. He could feel Marcus tense and then relax in his grip.

“You’re a good friend, Ben.” Marcus broke the hug. “Are we okay still?”

“Yeah.”

“Wanna go inside? It’s pretty cold out here.”

“Nah. I kinda like it out here.”

“Mind if I stay here with you?”

Ben nodded his head. The two stood watching the strange moon appearing from behind the clouds. Oddly beautiful.

“Hey, Marcus?”

“Yeah?”

“You know, I didn’t hate like, it or anything.”

“Hate what?”

Ben hesitated, “The kiss.”

Ben looked straight ahead. From the corner of his eye, he could see the outline of Marcus’s face, his sharp jawline in relief from the tangles of light and shadow.

“I just wanted you to know I wasn’t like, repulsed by it or something.”

“Oh?” One blue eye sparkled in the moonlight while the other half of his face was obscured in the dark. Ben thought he could see a smirk on Marcus’s face.

“Yeah.”

“Well if you didn’t haaaate it Kissel,” Marcus took a half step forward. “If I don’t totally disgust you—” Marcus took another half step towards Ben.

They were face to face now, though Marcus was a head shorter than Ben.

Ben backed up and anxiously sputtered, “What—what are you doing?”

Marcus reached a hand up and ran it through Ben’s thick red hair. He pulled Ben’s head down so they were inches apart.

Ben’s heart was hammering hard. “What—”

Marcus put his hands on either side of Ben’s face, and bit him hard on the nose.

Ben reeled back. “Hey! You bit me, you creep!”

“You should’ve seen your face—” Marcus let go of Ben’s face, laughing.

“Ha, ha, very funny.” Ben ran his hand over his nose.

“Oh my god, I got you!"

“You sure did,” Ben continued rubbing his nose.

Marcus’s laughter settled. A car backfired somewhere in the darkness.

“Are you sure you don’t want to make looove to me Ben?”

“Shut up, Marcus.” Ben breathed. Marcus had not moved away; they were still face to face.

Ben’s eyes swept over Marcus’s lips. They looked at one another, suddenly both very quiet. 

Marcus stared back at him, his expression confused and nervous.“Ben. Ben I was just kidding—”

And then Ben wrapped his hands around the small of the brunette’s back and pulled Marcus in.

They kissed gently. Marcus’s lips were soft and his breath smokey. Ben brushed his lips lightly across Marcus’s, enjoying the tug of the light stubble around Marcus’s mouth. Marcus responded by deepening the kiss. A thousand things were in Ben’s mind and yet he couldn’t focus on any of them. All he could feel was Marcus’s mouth searching against his, Marcus’s fingers intertwining in his hair. The warm pressure of Marcus’s body against his, Marcus biting down on his lower lip. Ben stifled a groan.

Marcus pulled away, still in Ben’s grasp, and looked up at him for a long moment. “You still good on the couch?”

“Yeah. Yeah.” Ben blinked dopily.

“See you in the morning then.” Marcus crossed the balcony and pulled open the sliding door.

“Yeah.”

Ben stood still, unsure of his body. Marcus pulled the curtains across the large windows.

Sighing, Ben turned back towards the mountains. He adjusted himself in his pants, glancing back at the window to make sure Marcus wasn’t looking. He wasn’t.

Ben leaned down, peering over the edge. The parking lot was completely covered in snow, no one around. The streetlamp cast long shadows. He could suddenly feel how cold he was in the thirty degree weather.

He waited until his erection flagged completely, then he went inside.


	6. Chapter 6

The next few days passed uneventfully. The first night, they stayed in Seattle with a buddy of Travis’s. Ben scarcely got time to do anything but sleep after the show. He crashed on one of the low couches in Travis’s friend’s basement, Marcus and Henry curled up on the floor in sleeping bags.

The next day, they started the drive down the coast to their last few shows of the tour. Ben found himself alone that night in his hotel room, clicking through pay per view channels. Glancing at his phone. Flipping the channel, glancing at it again.

A half composed message to Marcus sat in his Notes folder. _Hey man, it’s Ben, hope you’re well_

And that was it. Stupid. He knew Marcus was fine, he had seen him earlier that day. He had no idea what else to say.

This is ridiculous, he thought to himself. He picked up his phone and deleted the note. He opened a new message to Marcus:

_Hey man. Dogsitter sent some really cute pics of Puffin._

He pulled up the email from Tracy, downloaded the photos, and attached them to the message. He stared at his phone.

He deleted everything.

_Hey man, want to come over to my room for a beer_

“Fuck!” He deleted it as soon as he finished typing. He locked his phone.

By the third night Ben was desperate. He had awoken that morning face down, legs tangled in the sheets. His dreams had been intense and vibrant—back out on the balcony, his tongue gently exploring Marcus’s mouth. Marcus pulling him inside. The two of them kissing, stripping down until they were naked. As Ben rolled onto his back in his bed, alone, he discovered his boxers were sticky and wet.

He flipped open his phone. He could do this.

_Hi_

Good enough. He hit send.

A few minutes passed. Then his phone dinged: _Hi Ben_

Ben smiled a little, he couldn’t help it. He responded, _Want to come to my room?_

Dots appeared immediately. And then disappeared. He scowled.

Ben thought for a minute. Then he typed, _I have candy_

And waited. A few minutes later: _What kind_

Ben got up and walked over to his bag. He dug through. He typed, _Sour Patch Kids. A few mini Reese’s left. And I have beer_

Dots. Then: _Alright. I have some work I have to wrap up over here. I’ll be there in a half hour._

Ben grinned.


	7. Chapter 7

Ben sat anxiously on the side of his bed. He had tidied the hotel room as much as he could, busily stuffing as many beer cans as he could in the tiny trashcan. The room smelled like old pizza but there was nothing to do about that now.

A soft knock came at the door. Ben’s heart jumped.

He walked to the door, took a deep breath, and pulled it open.

Marcus was leaning against the doorframe. “Hiya Ben.”

“Hi Marcus,” Ben smiled. He would not act nervous.

“Can I come in?”

“Of course,” Ben moved aside and Marcus walked past him.

Marcus sat down on the bed. Ben hovered near the door.

“So, you usually tempt people over with candy?”

“Not unless I’m planning on murdering them.”

Marcus laughed and Ben relaxed a little. He walked over to his bag and pulled out the candy. “Pick your poison.”

Marcus pointed to the Sour Patch Kids. Ben tossed them onto the bed. He walked over and sat down across from Marcus.

Marcus tore open the bag. “So, what’s up?”

“What do you mean?” Ben's tone sounded off, even to his own ears.

“Just wondering why you’re asking me over here in the middle of the night. Everything okay?”

“Oh, yeah. Everything’s fine.”

“Mm.” Marcus chewed. “So what’s up then?”

“Um. Marcus,” Ben searched for the right words. “I’ve been doing some thinking.”

“About what?”

“I’ve just been thinking about my—about what I want,” Ben stammered, “And I...keep having these dreams. They’re kinda intense.”

“What kind of dreams?”

“Oh, you know, just normal, weird tour dreams.” He stopped, then continued, “Except, not really. You’re in them.”

“Are they about the tour? If you’re stressed, we can head out earlier, I just wanted to see a little bit of San Francisco before we leave—”

“No, no that’s fine.” Ben paused. “Marcus, uh, how did you know when you started to question...how did you realize you were interested in guys?” 

Marcus’s eyes widened. “Oh. Um…”

“You don’t have to tell me, if you don’t want to. If it makes you uncomfortable or anything.” Ben added quickly.

“I was in college,” Marcus sat the bag of candy on the nightstand. “I guess I just sort of fucked around until I found out what I was into. Why do you ask?”

“I’ve been thinking some. About the other night.” He could feel his face getting hot. “And wondering what you thought about it.” 

“Well I…” Marcus stopped. “I liked it Ben. But you said you didn’t..." Marcus trailed. "Did you...like it too Ben?”

“Yeah."

“Oh—”

“But I know there’s Last Podcast, and I would never want to risk anything with that, and you’re one of my closest friends, and I’ve felt so guilty—”

“Hey, man, it's okay! You shouldn’t feel guilty. It’s normal to explore your sexuality. You figured out something about yourself! That’s something to celebrate.”

“Thanks. It feels good to say it.”

“Yeah, of course. I’m always here if you need someone to talk to. About anything.” Marcus smiled reassuringly.

Ben smiled a little, and looked at his lap. “There’s something else, Marcus…”

“Yeah, Ben, anything you need to talk about. I'm here for you man.”

“Those dreams I mentioned? They’re about you. Us...doing things,” Ben couldn’t look at Marcus. “Sexual things.”

Marcus murmured a quiet, “Oh, I see…" Marcus cleared his throat. "I thought you said you wanted to be friends.”

“I did! I mean I do! I mean...I don’t know what I want.”

“Should I...go?” 

“No!” Ben’s head snapped up. “No, please, stay.”

“Okay.”

Ben looked at Marcus searchingly. He didn't have words to say what he wanted. 

After a moment, Marcus met his gaze. “Well, if you want, I could help you...explore those feelings a little more. Teach you the ropes.”

Ben’s breath hitched. “Really?"

“Sure.” Marcus took a deep breath and pushed the hair off his forehead. “What are friends for.”

Ben half smiled, still unsure. Marcus stood up and walked around the side of the bed to where Ben was sitting and sat down next to him. Ben turned to face him.

“Just tell me if I’m going too fast,” Marcus breathed. Ben nodded, eyebrows knitted, eyes flicking between Marcus’s eyes and Marcus’s lips.

Marcus deliberately drew his arms around Ben’s shoulders, pressed his forehead against Ben’s for a split second and then Marcus was kissing him. The faint taste of candy was still in Marcus's mouth. Ben moved his hands to Marcus’s waist. He desperately wanted to push Marcus back on the bed and pin his wrists, but he didn't dare. He could barely believe this was really happening. Instead he just gripped the sharpness of Marcus’s hipbones, and brushed his tongue lightly against Marcus's. 

Marcus sucked Ben’s top lip, and then his bottom one, gently but insistently biting. Ben gasped. His groin tightened deliciously. He pulled Marcus in closer. Marcus responded with another bite.

They kissed harder. Marcus swung his legs over Ben’s, shimmying so he was sitting in Ben’s lap. Ben resisted the urge to grind into Marcus, horrified that Marcus could feel how hard he was already. But he didn’t want to stop. Through the layers of denim between them, Ben could feel Marcus’s warmth, the soft pressure of Marcus’s ass on him. 

Marcus snaked his hands into Ben’s hair, pulling his head back to kiss Ben’s exposed neck.

“Fuck,” Ben groaned involuntarily. Marcus studied him, smirking, still gently grasping Ben’s hair for a moment before yanking Ben’s head back to suck harder, lips and then teeth.

“Marcus! You’re going to leave a mark—”

Marcus stopped. “Maybe I want to.” He leaned in and whispered. “Besides, Henry and Travis will never know it was me.”

“I don’t want to think about Henry right now.”

Marcus laughed. “Why would that be Ben?” He ground into Ben’s dick.

“I don’t—” Ben choked on his words as Marcus ground into him again.

Marcus leaned into Ben’s ear and whispered, “Should I stop? If you’re so bothered about Henry...” Marcus shifted so he could rub against the hard line in Ben’s jeans with his hand. Ben’s thighs tensed.

“No...please…”

Marcus let go of Ben’s dick. He toyed with the band of Ben’s boxers.

“Marcus, please.”

Marcus relented, kissing Ben again before sliding his hand under the fabric. Ben gasped as Marcus took hold of him.

They stayed like that for a moment, Marcus rubbing him, Ben breathing audibly, before Marcus dropped to his knees in front of the bed.“Take these off.” Ben stood, slid down his pants and kicked them aside, and then his underwear.

Marcus reached up and rubbed him. He sat up on his knees, giving Ben's cock a long lick from base to head. Marcus paused and brushed his tongue against the tip of Ben’s dick, where his precum was leaking. Marcus licked his way down Ben's shaft slowly, teasingly, before taking Ben into his throat.

“Oh, fuck, Marcus,” Ben groaned. The feeling of Marcus’s mouth was almost too much. Ben rested a large hand on the back of Marcus’s head. Marcus sucked gently at first, then harder and harder. He worked Ben’s head into the back of his throat, using his hand to jerk off the rest of Ben’s cock. 

Ben thrust into Marcus’s throat, making him gag; Ben looked up in concern but Marcus pulled back and giggled. Marcus put his mouth around Ben, looking directly into his eyes, and took all of Ben’s length as deeply as he could. Ben held Marcus there with his hand, pulling his hair and making Marcus moan. The vibration felt incredible.

Ben let go and Marcus resumed his pace, his lips tightening around Ben’s shaft. Ben glanced down and saw that Marcus was rubbing himself over his pants. Ben liked the shape of Marcus’s hands, large compared to his small wrists, palming himself. Ben closed his eyes and thrust hard, feeling Marcus shudder beneath him, and that was enough for him.

Ben groaned and leaned his head back as he came. He felt Marcus’s mouth move around him as Marcus swallowed.

Ben sighed and sat back on the bed. Marcus stood and wiped his lips. He went into the bathroom and Ben could hear the water running.

Marcus came back in and laid down next to Ben.

“That was nice,” Ben panted. He flipped onto his side. “Can I uh...do anything for you?”

“Actually I already...did,” Marcus said sheepishly. “When you were about to. I totally defiled your towels in there, I hope that’s okay.”

“Oh.” Ben said. His orgasm had left him struggling to think. “Yeah, that’s fine. Those towels were looking a little too clean anyway.”

“How was it?” Marcus’s tone was a little guarded. “Did I help you uh...figure anything out?”

“It was fantastic.”

Marcus smiled that smile that was purely Marcus, halfway between a huge grin and baring his teeth. “Happy to help Ben.” He picked up the candy from the beside table.


	8. Chapter 8

Ben woke up to the sound of a loud bang in the room next door. Dreams had been rolling through his head for what felt like hours. The blinds were closed but the sun peeked in underneath, bathing the room in half light.

Marcus was pressed against him, asleep. Ben was excited from the aching dream of kissing Marcus over and over again. Ben poked Marcus’s arm; he stirred. Ben smiled a little. Real Marcus, really there.

Marcus made a slight sound as he opened his eyes. “Mmmn. Good morning.”

“Morning.”

“What time is it?”

Ben looked at the clock. “It’s like, 9:30. What time do we have to be out of here by?”

“I think they said noon.” Marcus rolled over. He kissed Ben lazily. Something in Ben’s stomach stirred as he felt Marcus’s morning wood brush his thigh. “There any coffee around here?”

“Probably none that you want.”

“Ben, all coffee is coffee I want.” 

Marcus started to sit up; Ben pulled him back. “Whoa, hey, where do you think you’re going. We have plenty of time.” 

“Well, I never. Ben Kissel wants to cuddle with me.”

“I’ll do more than that if you’ll let me.”

“Oh? Is that an invitation?”

“Maybe.”

“I thought you were just _experimenting_.”

“Maybe I need to run some more tests.”

“I think your hard evidence is poking me right now.” Marcus giggled.

“That might be a glitch. I’ll have to try again.” Ben caught Marcus’s wrists, pinning his hands over his head.

Marcus grinned, wriggling his wrists. Ben held them insistently. Ben took a moment to run his eyes over Marcus. Black Gein t-shirt and plaid boxers. His curly dark hair was a mess. Though he had just slept, those persistent circles were still around his eyes. Marcus was oddly...pretty. He smirked, watching Ben watch him. 

Ben released one of his hands to run over Marcus’s bottom lip. He pressed his thumb into Marcus’s mouth. Marcus bit down, a little harder than was pleasant. 

Marcus broke his wrist from Ben’s grip. He turned his back so Ben could press against his ass. Ben took hold of Marcus’s hips and thrust against him.

Marcus grabbed one of Ben’s wrists and pressed his hand against the front of his boxers. He closed his hand over Ben’s, lightly jerking himself off. “That’s good like that.” 

Ben grunted. Marcus grabbed Ben’s wrist again. He slid Ben’s hand beneath the band of his underwear so Ben could touch him skin to skin. Marcus’s cock was soft and skinny-guy big.

Ben stopped.

Marcus looked back over his shoulder, eyeing Ben. “What’s up?”

“This is the first time I’ve ever done this.”

“I know. We can stop if you want to.”

Ben responded by adjusting his grip and pumping Marcus, enjoying the groan and the pressure as Marcus arched his back.

“I’ll take that as a no.” Marcus smiled.

Ben started to stroke him again. Marcus laid his head back on Ben’s shoulder, eyes closed.

Ben let go of Marcus, spit in his hand, and spread the moisture down the brunette’s shaft. Marcus gasped. Ben pumped very slowly at first. He adjusted his pace as Marcus bucked a little into his large hand with his hips, urging him to go faster.

Ben resumed his thrusting. He worked Marcus as he set a pace with his own hips, enjoying the soft sounds Marcus occasionally made.

Marcus flipped over, breaking the contact. “I’m going to come too fast like this." He reached into Ben’s boxers.

Ben groaned and laid back.

“You like how that feels, big guy?”

“Yeah.” Ben pressed his face into Marcus’s neck, breathing hotly.

“Did you like touching your best friend?”

Ben paused. He said curiously, “Yeah, I liked it.”

“How long have you been thinking about it?

“Since you kissed me the other night, I guess.”

“How often?” Marcus continued to rub him.

“I dunno...probably every day.”

“Did you touch yourself?”

Ben really paused now, and blushed.

“Keep talking.”

Ben startled from the edge in Marcus’s voice. “Yes.”

“Did you make yourself come?”

“Once,” Ben answered haltingly.

“What were you thinking about?”

“You and I together. You and I kissing…”

“What else?”

“Taking your clothes off. The way you would feel underneath me. Touching you...lower…” Ben stopped. He sounded like a teenager.

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

Ben frowned. Marcus was jerking him faster and it was getting harder to concentrate. “I didn’t want...to ruin anything..and I thought you were mad at me…” 

“Is that really why?” Marcus squeezed his cock.

Ben panted, “I—I don’t know. I don’t know why…”

“But you wanted to tell me.” Marcus’s pace on him was fast now. "You wanted to touch me."

“I don’t—” 

“It wouldn’t be because you were ashamed, would it?”

“What—no—” Marcus squeezed him again, making him groan loudly. Ben wasn’t sure how much longer he would last at this pace.

“That you were ashamed that you wanted to touch me. To put your mouth on me," Marcus looked at him pointedly. "To fuck me?”

“I—no! Marcus! God!” 

"Don't you dare come yet." 

Ben gripped the sheets tightly, holding back his release.

"Marcus..." he whined. 

“Look at me.”

Ben looked up, face twisted. It took everything he had to concentrate on Marcus.

Marcus let go of him. Ben’s head was swimming.

“Get on your knees.”

“What?”

“Now.”

Ben got up, a little woozy. He knelt on the floor next to the bed. The whole lower half of his body was throbbing.

Marcus stood over him. He pulled out his cock. Ben took hold of him dazedly. He took a breath, and put his lips around Marcus. 

“That’s good,” Marcus purred.

Marcus grabbed the back of Ben’s hair, forcing his mouth open, and pressed part of his length inside.

Ben moaned. “Shh,” Marcus said, and thrust again, this time more deeply.

Ben’s cock was achingly hard. He had never seen Marcus so bossy. It was something he hadn’t known he had been missing. Or that he so desperately wanted.

Marcus pressed his whole length inside of Ben slowly, hitting the back of his throat.

“Look at me.”

Ben looked up at him, mouth open, cheeks hollow. Marcus withdrew, took Ben’s head with his two hands, and thrust as deeply again. His blue eyes glittered. He moved again, two more slow, deliberate thrusts to the very back of Ben’s throat.

“If you want to touch yourself, do it now.”

Ben reached down and gratefully rubbed.

Marcus started to rut more roughly, holding Ben firmly in place. “Do you like how I make you feel Ben?” 

Ben tried to nod. The cords in Marcus's neck were straining and he was starting to buck faster and faster.

“Are you ashamed that I’m fucking you now?”

Ben groaned out a _Nnnn_. Marcus shoved his cock all the way inside. Ben gagged but Marcus held him still.

“Then come for me.”

Ben’s eyes shot open. He palmed himself harder, groaning loudly. It wasn't difficult; within seconds, he was shuddering and pumping onto the hotel room floor.

He felt Marcus’s thighs tense.

“Oh Ben, oh f-fuck—!” Marcus thrust a few more times before his orgasm spilled into Ben’s mouth. Ben swallowed the bitter liquid quickly, trying not to taste it.

Marcus collapsed onto the bed. Ben stood, and walked to the fridge. He cracked open a beer and swished before swallowing. He set the beer on the bedside table and sprawled next to Marcus.

They lay on the bed in a crumpled heap, breathing heavily.

Marcus was the first to speak. “Jesus, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for that to go that far.”

“It’s okay. I liked it.”

Marcus propped himself up. “Are you actually going to drink a beer at 10 in the morning?”

“Um...it’s 5 o’clock somewhere.”

Marcus laughed. “Yeah, I guess man. Want me to make us a pot of coffee?”

“That hotel horse shit? No fucking way.”

Marcus giggled. “Alright well, should we get breakfast then?”

“Henry is the last person I want to see right now.”

“Just the two of us Ben. We can go out somewhere. My treat.”

“You seriously don’t have to feel bad—”

“Ben.” Marcus stopped him. “Let me take you out.”

“Oh. Like a—date?”

Marcus smiled slyly. “Maybe something like that, yeah. Unless you’re still full from the first course—”

“That is disgusting, Marcus Parks!” Ben yelled, laughing. He rolled on top of Marcus and kissed him on the mouth.

“Help! Bigfoot! I’m being fucked by Bigfoot!”

“If you don’t shut up so help me God—” Ben broke into a full grin. Marcus Parks was taking him on a date.


	9. Chapter 9

Ben stood in the shower under the hot stream of water in Marcus’s hotel room. It was the last night of their West Coast tour; Ben didn’t know where the time had gone. The days flew by: sending quick texts when Henry wasn’t paying attention, seeing flashes of a smile over Marcus’s features as he opened his phone. Sneaking into Marcus’s room at night, sliding beneath the sheets; the groaning, tugging release of Marcus’s hands and mouth. It all felt so good it was a little unbelievable.

Ben shut off the water. He grabbed a towel off the metal rack and dried himself. He felt apprehensive for the next day. When they got home, they would fall back into the beat of their routines and start recording again. Things would be different. The mirror was steamed over; he wiped a small section of it clear so he could see himself. A scowl had crept onto his face. He sighed and ran his hands through his hair, attempting to tame the wet red tangles.

Marcus was sitting at the desk typing when Ben emerged from the bathroom. Ben slid his arms around Marcus’s neck, kissing the delicate skin behind his ear. Marcus leaned back into Ben’s side. The thought popped into Ben's mind, _Enjoy it while it lasts._

“What are you working on?”

“Just responding to some emails. Nothing that can’t wait.” Marcus closed his laptop. With a slight smile, he toyed with the knotted, damp towel at Ben’s waist. Ben stiffened as Marcus kneaded him through the fabric.

Ben tried to sound nonchalant, “So what happens when we get back from tour?”

Marcus traced Ben’s hip. “What do you mean?” Marcus's fingers started to slide under the towel.

Ben caught Marcus’s wrist; Marcus looked up at him. “I mean what happens to this,” Ben gestured back and forth between the two of them.

Marcus stood. “Do you think I could forget you that easy? We have a professional obligation." 

Ben snorted. “Yeah, this feels real professional."

“Don’t worry, darlin. I’m not going anywhere.”

Ben nodded. Marcus brushed the wet strands of Ben’s hair at the base of his neck. He ran his damp fingertips down Ben’s spine, making Ben shiver.

“I just…” he trailed off as Marcus stroked his back.

“I’ve got you Ben.” Marcus murmured. “You're mine..."

“Marcus—” Ben groaned. "Come on." 

“You think you’re not?” 

“Marcus, you know I didn’t mean it like that. Can’t we just have a regular conversation about this?”

“We are talking about it. And I’m telling you you’re mine.”

Ben’s heart jumped into his throat. “In what sense?” He still couldn't tell if Marcus was being intentionally evasive.

“In every sense.”

Marcus stepped forward, backing Ben towards the bed. He reached to Ben’s waist and untied the towel, smirking as it fell to the floor.

Ben flushed and struggled to concentrate. “Marcus…”

Marcus pushed him onto the bed and climbed on top. Though Marcus was much smaller, Ben felt as though he couldn’t move. Marcus’s jeans were rough against his bare skin; his erection pressed into Marcus’s thigh. 

“Please…” Ben’s voice was breathy, blown out.

Marcus pressed his palm flat against Ben's side, just below his ribcage. He clawed his fingers and raked slowly down the delicate, damp skin, watching Ben’s face contort into a grimace.

“What was that for?” 

“I’m showing you.”

“What?”

“That you’re mine.” Marcus kissed down Ben's neck.

“How is that supposed to reassure me?"

“I’m marking you,” Marcus said against Ben’s shoulder, “so you don’t forget again.”

Marcus opened his mouth wide and sank his teeth into the meat of Ben's upper bicep.

“Marcus!” Ben's eyes snapped open wide with surprise and pain. 

Marcus responded by clamping down harder. The sinews in Ben's shoulder seized as Marcus broke skin.

"Marcus! Stop!” 

Marcus obliged. He leaned into Ben’s mouth, forcing it open with his tongue; he tasted metallic, like blood.

Ben pushed Marcus off him. “Are you an actual cannibal? What the fuck are you doing?”

“Are you sure you want what comes after this?”

“What comes after this—you make me into a three course dinner?!" Ben poked at his bloodied shoulder.

Ben stood and stalked to the bathroom, grabbing a washcloth off the rack, pressing it to the wound.

“Come back to bed and find out, loverrr…” Marcus called from the other room.

Ben looked at himself in the bathroom mirror. Flushed, naked, and still hard, with visible scrapes down his ribs. He set the washcloth on the counter. Marcus had gotten him good: a visible print of Marcus’s teeth, some of the indentations filling with blood.

“You know you can’t resist meee…”

“Shut UP, Marcus.”

The bathroom door clicked; Marcus peered inside. “Too much?”

“Yeah, a little!"

“I meant it though.” Marcus pushed the door all the way open. “Every word.”

“Yeah?” Ben’s heart leapt despite himself.

“Yes," Marcus smiled. "Does my brave boy need a bandaid for that arm?" 

“Oh fuck you!”

“Oh come on. You can’t have hated it that much.”

“No? And how would you know?” 

“You’re still hard,” Marcus snickered.

Ben turned bright red. He tried to angle his hips away from Marcus but he couldn’t deny it.

“Come back to bed. I promise I won’t bite…”

Ben hesitated. “No more of that, okay?”

Marcus held his hands up. “I promise. Not tonight.”

Ben's ears pricked up at the last part but he decided not to make anything of it. He followed Marcus back out into the bedroom. Marcus laid down and patted the bed next to him. Ben reluctantly sat.

“Come on Ben, lay down...that’s a good boy…”

“I’m not a dog!"

“No, you’re not Ben, I’m sorry…” Marcus kissed Ben’s shoulders, carefully avoiding the injury. “Forgive me?” 

Why did Marcus have to be so impossible? Impossible to say no to, impossible to say yes to. Ben stared at him. 

“Yeah,” he finally sighed, “I forgive you.”

Marcus reached up and kissed him. Ben closed his eyes. Marcus’s mouth still tasted ever so slightly metallic. For a moment Ben wondered if he had gotten in over his head.

But then Marcus pulled away and smiled at him. Weasely and odd and...cute? Ben pushed Marcus’s hair out of his eyes and tucked it behind his ear. Marcus giggled.

Fuck him. That fucking freak.


	10. Chapter 10

Ben woke up with a start to the sound of the hotel room door opening. He must have dozed off during the movie. Marcus was kicking off his shoes, a plastic bag in one hand. 

“Mm, what are you doing?” Ben asked. When Ben had fallen asleep, Marcus had been nestled beneath his shoulder. “What time is it?”

“It’s 10:00. You fell asleep.” 

Ben nodded groggily. The nap had left him more exhausted than he had been before. His mouth was dry and he was sweating, his right arm pulsing and hot.

“Got you some snacks. And something to clean up that arm. It doesn’t look that good.” Marcus walked to the bedside and held out the plastic bag. 

“A lunatic attacked me and bit me, can you believe it?” Ben opened it and found Chex Mix and a ginger ale. He fished them out and set the bag on the bedside table. “Have I told you you’re a freak lately?” 

Marcus giggled. “Not in a few hours. But you were asleep for most of that.” 

Ben sipped his soda. It was cool and soothing on his throat. He drank more deeply, grateful chugs. 

Marcus perched on the bed, climbing to Ben’s side. He reached over Ben and grabbed the Rite Aid bag, pulling out a brown bottle and a box of Bandaids. 

“Peroxide,” he responded to Ben’s questioning look. 

“So you’re diseased. Pick up something from poking roadkill? Might explain the biting." 

Marcus rolled his eyes. “No, but mouths have a lot of bacteria in them. You could get an infection.” 

“Thank you so much doctor."

“Anytime. Sit up for a minute.” 

Ben grumbled but obliged. Marcus pulled a tube of cotton rounds from the bag, ripped them open, and covered the opening of the peroxide bottle with one, flipping and coating it. Ben sat the snacks down and held out his arm. 

Marcus smiled. “This may sting a bit.”

Marcus glided the cotton over him, then folded it into quarters to trace the individual indentations. Ben gritted his teeth. Marcus was close enough that Ben could smell the cigarettes on Marcus’s collar, shampoo, and that faint human trace that was Marcus's own scent.

Marcus worked delicately. It was unlike him, usually pent up and shaking. But the way he traced Ben’s shoulder was so careful; the stinging was almost pleasant. Ben grunted as Marcus wiped the wound with a long final swipe.

Marcus covered Ben’s arm with two large bandages from the box. “Better?”

Ben wasn’t sure if it was better, but Marcus was so earnest. “Yeah.” 

Marcus set the supplies down on the bedside, and tucked his head against Ben’s side. He sighed contentedly. 

Ben ran a hand through Marcus’s hair, feeling the greasy roots on his fingertips. “When was the last time you showered?”

“I dunno, maybe a week.” 

“Gross.” 

“What?”

“On tour? I have to shower like, every day.” 

“What for?” Marcus sat up.

"You like smelling like a bar floor at the end of the night?" 

“Alright, message received. I’ll take a shower.” Marcus grabbed his shirt by the nape and slipped it off. "I'm shocked that the Bud Light king is giving me a lecture about smelling like old beer." He laid back and started working on his belt, trying to squirm out of his jeans without standing. 

"Well, I'm full of surprises." Ben’s eyes quickly travelled over Marcus’s body: wiry shoulders, the dark trail of hair leading down from his navel, and abs. Marcus definitely had abs.

 _Only because he’s so skinny,_ Ben rolled his eyes internally. 

Marcus noticed Ben watching him. “You alright there big guy?” 

“Yeah.” Ben looked down, embarrassed at being caught. 

“See somethin’ you like?” 

Ben had to admit that seeing Marcus undress was distracting. “Maybe.”

Marcus scooted next to him, brushing against Ben's shoulder. Ben flinched. 

“Ah shit man, I’m sorry. Forgot."

“I’m still mad at you.” 

“What can I ever do to make it up to you?” 

“You could stop teasing me.” 

“I was under the impression that you liked being teased,” Marcus smiled.

“Well I don’t!” 

“Not even a little?”

“No, not a little. Not at all.” 

“Not even the tiniest bit?” Marcus smirked. He looked in Ben’s eyes as he pulled Ben in for a kiss. He slowly raked his teeth over Ben’s lower lip. 

“You promised no more biting. That’s strike one.”

“What happens if I get three strikes?”

“I—you—will be sorry.” 

“Oh is that so?” He drew his hand down to Ben’s boxers to lazily stroke over the fabric. 

Ben breathed in sharply.

Marcus moved to Ben’s throat and grazed it with his teeth. “Strike two. What are you doing to do to me, Ben?"

Ben thought hard. “Well—first I’ll pin you down. And make you apologize. A real one.” 

“And what if I don’t?” 

“I’ll—I’ll make you."

Marcus kissed down to Ben’s chest and lightly bit him, murmuring, “Three.” 

Ben hesitated over Marcus for a beat. Marcus met his gaze, challenging. 

“Then I’ll make you shut up for once.” Ben flipped Marcus over, making him yelp in surprise. He slid one hand under Marcus’s chest, holding him down. He slid his other hand to press into the back of Marcus’s skull, pressing his face into the bed, rendering him incapable of moving. A half nelson. 

The brunette was silent, didn’t struggle. Ben’s hips were pressed to Marcus’s side. He massaged Marcus’s chest, marveling at the taut muscles. Ben adjusted on the duvet so he had leverage, digging his feet in, and rolled his hips against Marcus, groaning softly. 

Ben released Marcus’s neck and moved Marcus onto his side, still holding him around the chest in a tight grip. Ben ground against Marcus’s ass again, and then again. His cock was fully hard now. He shimmied down his underwear to grind, skimming against the cotton of Marcus’s boxers. 

“Having fun?” Marcus’s voice was acerbic, snapping Ben out of his haze of enjoyment. 

Ben froze. 

“Let me go.” 

Ben released Marcus. Marcus flipped over. His eyes wore that odd look Ben was learning meant something was coming. Ben had crossed a line. 

“Strip.” 

Ben assented, kicking his boxers all the way off. 

“All fours.” 

Ben opened his mouth to argue, but Marcus’s warning look made him think better of it. He assumed the position Marcus wanted. He felt ridiculous and exposed. His balls hung between his legs and his erection pressed against his stomach. Marcus picked up the bag from the table, and pulled out something Ben couldn’t see. 

“What are you doing?”

Marcus didn’t answer. He heard the crunch of plastic. 

“Marcus?”

Two hands spreading his ass. Ben’s stomach clenched. 

“Marcus, come on—” He could hear the tinge of panic rising in his voice. “At least tell me what you’re going to do?” 

He looked back. Marcus was crouched behind him on the bed. “Relax, Ben. Just focus on relaxing.”

“Okay.” Ben was nervous. “Why?” 

“I’m going to fuck you.” His voice was nonchalant, but his eyes were heated and intense.

Ben dropped his head onto the bed. “Because I pinned you?” 

Ben felt the weight on the bed shift and he looked up. Marcus was next to him, studying him.

“Because I want to. If you don’t relax, it will be painful.” He traced Ben’s cheek. “I’m going to do it either way, but it will be better for you if you relax.” 

Ben made a face but nodded. He hated this position, hated Marcus touching his cheek that way; it made him feel like a woman that Marcus was about to fuck. Still, he would rather take whatever Marcus had in mind than argue. 

Marcus moved back to the edge of the bed. Ben’s lower body was gripping like a vice, he couldn’t help it. He tried to be mindful of Marcus’s words, intentionally relaxing his thighs, but his stomach clenched again as Marcus brushed a fingertip along his hole. He started shaking. 

“Shh,” Marcus whispered soothingly. He worked his finger in light circles. The sensation was unlike anything Ben had felt before; it made every hair on his body stand on end. 

Marcus leaned in and Ben felt the warm, wet lap of Marcus’s tongue. He groaned, his hands clenching at the bed cover. It was soft and unexpected. Marcus spat on him, and ran his fingers over Ben again. He gently inserted the point of his index finger, slowly pressing the tip inside. Ben gasped. 

Marcus backed away for a moment; he heard the click of a cap. He turned; Marcus was holding a bottle of lube. 

“Where did you get—”

“Rite Aid.”

“Oh.”

Marcus poured some on his fingers. “It may be cold at first.”

“Okay.” 

It was cold; Ben squirmed a little as Marcus spread it over him. 

“Get on your back.”

Ben turned over.

"Knees up."

Ben did as he was told. Marcus got on top. He had shed his underwear, and he was holding himself in his hand. Marcus ran his pink cockhead over Ben’s entrance, making him shudder. Marcus teased Ben with insertion, then backed off as Ben whimpered. 

“Is it really going to hurt?” Ben asked. He hated the whine in his voice. 

“Your first time, without training? I’d say yeah, it’s going to hurt.” Marcus dropped down to his elbows, “But it won’t be anything you can’t handle. And I’ll go slow.” 

Ben half-smiled, not reassured. 

“Ben, I won’t hurt you for real. You can trust me.” 

Ben looked up at Marcus. He did trust Marcus. But he also knew that Marcus could be unpredictable. 

“Are you ready?”

Ben sighed. 

“Remember to relax.”

“Yeah, I’m ready.” Ben took a deep breath. “Go ahead.”

Marcus lined himself up and pressed inside. The first sensation was of being split, a slow-moving pain as Marcus slid inside of him. Then there was the fullness as Marcus moved in further, full in a way he hadn’t known he’d been empty.

“Can I go all the way in?”

Ben’s face scrunched but he nodded. Marcus watched him as he pressed in more, slowly.

Ben gasped. It hurt more the further Marcus got. “Too much—”

Marcus backed off, took Ben’s face in both off his hands. “You’re doing so well Ben." 

Ben looked up at Marcus, face twisted. There was a growing, intense sensation of pleasure coming in jolts as when Marcus bumped him lightly. “Marcus, it’s so much…” 

“I know it is, and you’re doing so well, taking my cock like this.” 

Ben closed his eyes. He knew he wanted to please Marcus, more than his rising embarrassment, more than anything. He could do this.

“Keep going." 

“I’ll go slow,” Marcus promised. 

Marcus pushed in further. Ben groaned as the slow-moving pain began again.

“Fuck…” Tears started to well in Ben's eyes. “Fuck…” 

Marcus stopped, holding himself all the way inside. He rolled his hips, making Ben cry out slightly. 

“Marcus…” Ben's voice was broken. 

Marcus stroked Ben’s hair in response. 

Marcus licked his hand and moved it to Ben’s cock, starting to stroke him. Ben clenched in pleasure, creating a ripple of sensation through his stomach. He moaned.

Marcus jerked him slowly. Ben pursed his lips, leaning his head back. The room was silent except for Ben occasionally making small sounds, the quiet _schick schick schick_ of Marcus’s hand moving over Ben’s skin. Ben felt like a raw nerve, between the dull pain of being forced open and the building of his orgasm. He looked up at Marcus, who was hunched over him. 

Marcus glanced up. “You look so good like this baby.”

He punched his hips into Ben, eliciting a squeal of pain. Normally Ben would have been horrified but he was too gone to care. 

“Do you like taking my cock?” 

“Yes.” Ben could hardly concentrate on Marcus.

“Who owns you Ben?” 

“You do.” Ben squirmed and then winced from the lance of pain in his abdomen.

Marcus smiled. “Yes, I do.” He sped up.

“Oh fuck,” Ben murmured, closing his eyes. 

“Do you want to come, Ben?” 

“Yes...please..."

“You can come, but not before I say.” Marcus moved faster on him, faster until the pace was frantic.

“Oh God, Marcus,” Ben’s neck strained, “Oh God, Marcus!” 

“Come for me.” 

Ben groaned loudly as his orgasm spilled out onto his stomach in pulses, long, thick trails of come. He sighed, falling back, resting his head on one of the hotel pillows. 

Marcus started to rut into Ben, moving less carefully. Ben's orgasm had numbed him slightly, but each movement was still raw and aching; each of Marcus's thrusts evoked a little uncontrollable whimper out of the bottom of his throat. 

"Shut up," Marcus grabbed a fistful of Ben's hair, forcing Ben's head to the side. He made a guttural sound as he slammed into Ben, each a little harder than the last. 

Ben tried to grit his teeth to stop the noise, but the hollow whine kept coming. "I'm sorry—" his words were muffled into the pillow. 

"God, Ben, shut up!" Marcus twisted his hand in Ben's hair. Ben did his best to keep quiet.

Marcus's voice was strained, "I'm going to—fuck, I'm going to come—"

One last final thrust, harder than the rest, then Marcus's movements slowed. He laid his forehead on Ben's chest, breathing hard. 

“I’m going to pull out now, okay?”

Ben nodded weakly. He cried out softly as Marcus pulled out of him. Marcus got up and walked to the bathroom; he heard the rush of water inside. 

Ben lay on the bed, panting. His asshole ached. Marcus re-entered the room, drying his hands on a towel. He sat down on the bed next to Ben. 

Ben turned to Marcus. “Did I do good?” 

“You did so good, Ben. So good for me." 

Marcus tossed Ben the towel and left the room. Ben heard the shower kick on.

Ben sighed, his head lolling. He felt totally spent. He cleaned his stomach off, threw the towel on the floor next to the bed. Already starting to doze, Ben turned on his side, listening to the sound of the shower water beating on the tiles. He was happy he had pleased Marcus. 

He liked pleasing Marcus.


	11. Chapter 11

Ben punched the elevator button in Marcus’s building. It had been a few days since they had gotten back from tour, during which Ben had been mostly asleep, finally in the comfort of his own bed. The flight home had been nice; Ben and Marcus had sat next to one another near the aisle, with an older woman in headphones in the window seat. Marcus had brushed Ben’s leg and the two had snuck off to the bathroom to fool around as much as they could, given Ben’s size and the logistics of movement in the tiny bathroom, before turbulence had forced them back into their seats.

Then yesterday, Ben had gotten a message from Marcus asking if he wanted to come over to play video games the next night. Ben was happy that he was going to see Marcus, though surely they had passed the point where they needed excuses? Now he stood in the elevator, not knowing what to expect and feeling a little stupid for being in the dark.

He walked down the hall. The familiar smell of weed emanated from one of the apartments. He breathed it in and wondered if he could get a second hand high if he huffed enough of the fumes underneath the door. He realized he was nervous. But why should he be? It was just Marcus, at Marcus’s apartment. No big deal.

He knocked. No answer.

Knocked again. The muffled sound from inside, “One minute!”

“Sorry,” Ben called back awkwardly. He waited.

Finally, Marcus opened the door. He was wearing a dark red cocktail dress, which hugged his slender body.

“Oh,” Ben whispered.

“Miss me?”

“Very much,” Ben’s eyes skimmed Marcus’s body. Marcus’s shoulder dusting hair traced his exposed clavicle. The low cut dress showed off Marcus’s chest and tattooed shoulders, hugging tightly around his hips. Ben could see a faint impression of Marcus's dick in the fabric.

“Hey, Ben?” Marcus snapped his fingers. “Earth to Ben?”

“Wha—yeah?”

Marcus smiled. “I don’t think I’ve ever been ogled before. I kind of like it.”

“I was not ogling! You just…” Ben put his arms around Marcus’s waist and pulled him close, “you look good.” He went in for a kiss.

Marcus dodged him. “Come in first, we’ll do plenty of that.”

“Oh, now who’s ashamed?”

“I think the old lady across the way might have a heart attack if she saw me in this,” Marcus grinned.

“Yeah, I could see why,” Ben took another long look at Marcus.

“Looks like someone else might go into cardiac arrest.”

“Ugh—whatever. Let’s just go inside, since you’re so terrified of meemaw.”

“Be my guest.” Marcus swung the door open behind him but did not move from the entry, forcing Ben to brush against him in order to get inside. Marcus gave him a cheeky little smile and Ben narrowed his eyes, not about to give Marcus the satisfaction of seeing how much it affected him. That dress was something else. Marcus himself was something else.

Ben had expected Marcus’s apartment to shift somehow now that so much had changed between the two of them, but it hadn’t; same ratty old sofa, faded posters, clutter of bones and odds and ends over every available surface. A headless mannequin was mounted on the wall, wearing a frilly red bra. Ben found himself wondering for the first time if the underwear was for more than just decoration.

“Home sweet hoarder nest."

“Hey! It ain’t much but it does the job.” Marcus swung the door closed and plopped down on the sofa. “It’s better than it used to be anyway. I cleared out like, half the crap before you came over.”

“What did you do with all of it?”

“Well...it may be in the hall closet. But I’m going to get rid of it!”

Ben walked to the sofa and sat. “That’s what you said last time.”

“I get like, three times the fan mail you do. I have a lot to go through!”

“And you’re not bragging about that, like, at all.”

Marcus laughed. “Hey man, if you can’t take the heat, get out of the kitchen.”

“I wouldn’t eat anything that came out of your kitchen.”

“Why not?” Marcus was indignant. 

“Because it’s probably been in your fridge since like, 2008.”

“More for me then.” Marcus shrugged and one of the straps slid off his shoulder, peaking Ben's interest.

“So,” Ben cleared his throat. “Why the formal wear? I’m feeling a little underdressed.”

Marcus giggled. “It’s a special occasion. Actually, you’re a little overdressed for what I had in mind for tonight.”

“You said we were playing video games. Unless that’s code for something, I’m in the dark here.”

“All in due time, Ben, all in due time.”

“Great.” Ben sat back on the couch. “You just let me know when you want to tell me. No rush.”

Marcus chuckled. “Dinner first.”

“Dear God I hope you’re not cooking. I’m not eating pickles. Or whatever the hell that is.” Ben gestured to the mouse floating in a jar on the coffee table.

“I’ll order something! So picky. What’s wrong with some culinary experiments every now and again?"

“You are the literal reason they say never trust a skinny chef.”

“The secret’s in the secret sauce.” Marcus waggled his eyebrows. "And I happen to know you love my recipe." 

“Gross, Marcus. Gross.”


	12. Chapter 12

They ordered dinner, sat on the couch and ate in silence while an episode of _Nightstalker_ hummed on the television. Ben wanted to ask Marcus why he would want to watch this, since he already probably knew all this and more about Ramirez, but Marcus seemed totally absorbed. Other than the ubiquitous dress, which Ben had no idea what to think about, Marcus had made no moves to turn towards sex. Ben watched him flick the pod in and out of his juul, occasionally puffing it absentmindedly.

The show ended. The theme song rang, too loud for the awkward silence.

“Well then,” Ben was getting impatient. He rapped his knuckles on the table. “Whatcha wanna do now?” 

Marcus shrugged. “We could watch another—”

“Marcus, oh my _God_.”

“What?”

“You know what! You invite me over here, wearing _that_ , and you’re just going to sit here and watch tv and ignore me?”

“I want to…take my time tonight."

"Why? It's not like we've never done this before."

Marcus picked up his beer off the table, studied it. He started to peel the label. "I want to try things with you. Things you make me think about. I don’t know how much you’re okay with.”

“Like what?”

“I’ll show you. I was going to wait, but I guess now is as good a time as any.” Marcus sat his beer down, stood up, jerked his head towards the bedroom.

Ben followed, watching Marcus’s hips move as he padded down the hall. He had to admit he was curious; seeing Marcus uncertain was new for him. It excited him.

Marcus pushed open his bedroom door. The room was similarly disheveled as the rest of the apartment, dimly lit. Marcus’s bed was unmade, blankets on the floor.

Then Ben noticed the restraints, attached to each post of the four poster bed. “Oh.”

Marcus eyed him. “What do you think?”

“This isn’t so terrible. The way you were acting, I thought you wanted to draw and quarter me.”

Marcus grimaced. “Do you want to try?” 

Ben wasn’t sure. It would certainly be a new level of giving over to Marcus. But after watching Marcus in that dress all night, maddeningly tight in all the right places, Ben was itching for a release.

“Alright. Let’s do it. Where do you want me?”

“Take your clothes off first.” Marcus smiled cautiously. 

Ben slipped his t-shirt over his head. Marcus watched him.

“Are you just going to stare at me?” Ben undid his belt.

Marcus smirked and nodded, lounging on the bed. Ben got his jeans off and stood in his boxers.

“Those too.”

Ben shucked them off. He stood in front of Marcus, naked, his face and neck flushing.

“Will you stop looking at me like that?”

“Like what,” Marcus said coyly. 

“Like—like—oh nevermind.”

“C’mere.”

Ben did as he was told, sitting next to Marcus on the bed. He slid his hands up Marcus’s body, feeling the slick shiny material. He stopped at Marcus’s chest, kissed his sternum, then his collarbone.

“How did you know how much I would like this?” Ben whispered.

“I had a hunch.”

“Mm.” Ben kissed Marcus’s neck. He ran his hand down to the curve of Marcus’s waist, stopping just short of Marcus’s groin.

“Such a gentleman, Benjamin,” Marcus murmured. He held Ben’s hand in his own and flipped it over, traced the spiderweb of blue veins at Ben’s wrist. Marcus moved Ben’s hand down, closing it over the red bulge in the satin. His eyes closed as Ben rubbed him.

Marcus pulled Ben into a kiss and gently rolled on top of him. He tugged Ben’s wrist up into the black leather band, buckling it.The inside of the cuff was soft and padded. Ben rolled his wrist, experimenting with the fit. It was extremely snug, with a small amount of wiggle room. Marcus snapped the second cuff on.

"So are you going Dean Corll with this one?" Ben asked. 

Marcus grabbed Ben’s jaw with his hand. He turned Ben’s head from side to side, examining him. “You really are handsome, Benjamin Kissel.”

“Thank you?” It was hard to talk with Marcus gripping his jaw.

“It’s too bad you talk so damn much.”

“Too bad for you. I'm never going to shut up." 

“I think I’ve got something that might actually shut you up.” Marcus leaned over and rummaged in his drawer. When he came up, Ben saw a red, shiny ball in his hand.

It took him a minute to realize what it was. “Marcus!” Ben protested.

“Do you want to do this, or do you want me to get more creative?” 

“Fine.” Ben opened his mouth and allowed Marcus to shove the ball gag inside. He lifted his head so Marcus could buckle it.

“That ought to shut up that bigass, dumbfuck mouth for a little while,” Marcus goaded. 

Ben tried to retort but his words were mangled by the gag. He choked on spit and started coughing.

“Exactly Ben, couldn’t have said it better myself.”

Ben glared at him.

“Give it a minute, you’ll get used to it.” Marcus flipped off the bed and walked to bind Ben’s ankles.

He moved to Ben’s left ankle, yanking the strap tight. Ben groaned in complaint.

“Usually I’m the one wearing the gag, but I like it better this way.” Marcus buckled Ben’s right ankle. “Don’t you think?”

Marcus crawled up the bed, hitching the dress up so he could straddle Ben’s torso. It inched up his pale thighs, so Ben could see up his skirt. Marcus was wearing black panties.

He noticed Ben's gaze. “Like them? I got them just for you.”

Marcus ran his hand over himself. The underwear didn’t leave much to the imagination; his pink cockhead peeked out the lacy top. Marcus started to jerk himself off through the fabric, intently watching Ben’s pained reaction.

“I bet you wish you could do this, don’t you?”

Ben groaned. He watched Marcus’s hand move up and down.

Slowly, teasingly, Marcus moved the underwear aside to touch himself bare.

“So big and strong…you know, I never would’ve pegged you for wanting to get fucked by a sissy.”

Ben glared at him, trying to sear a hole in Marcus’s head with his eyes.

Marcus ran his hand over Ben’s chest. “And what does that make you?”

“Mmnntt…” Ben tried.

“Hasn’t anyone ever told you it’s rude to talk with your mouth full?”

“Uck you, Marrus.”

The corners of Marcus’s mouth twitched with amusement. “I bet you wish you could.”

Ben scowled.

Marcus climbed between Ben’s legs. He licked Ben’s shaft, pulled gently on Ben’s balls with his hand. The compression made him tingle. Ben’s cock jumped. 

“Oh, you like that?”

Ben nodded his head yes.

“More?”

Ben nodded yes again.

Marcus squeezed him tighter, eliciting a grunt. With one tight squeeze he let go, causing a hit of pain in Ben’s gut.

Marcus put his mouth over the tip of Ben’s dick and started to work him. The pain slowly subsided. Ben's cock started to thrum pleasantly. Ben angled his hips up into Marcus’s mouth, trying to hit the soft part of his throat.

Marcus pulled back. “I don’t want you to come just yet. I’m not done with you.”

Ben scoffed.

“Oh, so you’d rather just come and get it over with?”

Ben rolled his eyes and nodded no.

“Good. I have a surprise.”

Marcus turned on his side and slid his underwear off. He got on top of Ben again. He turned around, fumbling with something Ben couldn’t see. When he turned around, he had a butt plug in his hand.

Ben raised his eyebrows.

“Would you do me the great honor of fucking me in the ass?”

Ben blinked. He slowly shook his head yes.

“Good then.” Marcus smiled and set the butt plug on the nightstand. “Just hold still. Not that you can do much else." He stroked Ben's hair. "Like being my bitch?" 

Ben flexed, yanking the restraints. Marcus giggled at the sheer frustration on his face.

“I bet you’d just love to get your hands on me."

Ben narrowed his eyes.

Marcus took ahold of Ben’s dick, moving his hips over Ben’s. He lined himself up and sat back. He winced. Slowly he took all of Ben’s considerable girth.

Ben groaned at the warm velvet drag. Marcus was so tight around him. It wasn’t Ben’s first time having anal, but with Marcus it just felt different. Sex with Marcus made his whole body pulse. Marcus playing with him, taking his pleasure. The whole night felt like one long, drawn out cock tease. 

Marcus bobbed up and down, placing his hands on Ben’s chest for stability. He hooked his feet around Ben’s thighs and sat back, using the leverage to fuck himself slowly. 

Marcus sighed as he rolled on top of Ben, his thighs tightening, and his hole. The clenching sent a wave of pleasure through Ben. If he didn’t have these restraints on, he would just rip Marcus in half. It would be easy to overpower him, to force him down and hear these delicious sighs and groans underneath him. He knew Marcus would never let him do it, but still, some part of him wanted to feel Marcus under him, crying out _Oh god Ben yes_. 

Marcus was bucking more quickly, cutting short Ben’s train of thought. His dick was throbbing for release. He stared up pleadingly at Marcus, who seemed totally engrossed, his eyes scrunched closed. If he came without Marcus's permission, there would be Hell to pay. So he watched Marcus fuck himself. And waited.

Marcus’s expressions looked like he was coming apart. Marcus’s eyes were closed, his brow furrowed. His lips pursed slightly open. A few strands of hair stuck to his face with sweat. Both of the straps of the dress were down, leaving Marcus’s pale, hairless, slender upper chest exposed. The dress bunched around the middle of his body, drawn up around Marcus’s tensing, pale thighs. The fabric moved over Marcus's hard on and dark pubic hair.

It felt like an eternity until Marcus opened his eyes and noticed Ben looking at him. “Do you want to come?”

Ben vigorously nodded yes.

“You can come." 

Ben eyes rolled back and his thighs tensed. He thrust into Marcus as much as the restraints would allow. A long, loud groan exorcised itself from his vocal chords and then he was coming inside Marcus. 

Marcus gently rocked from side to side and then pulled himself off of Ben. He leaned forward and unbuckled the gag.

“Fuckin’ A,” Ben panted.

“Hold still.”

Ben looked up at Marcus. Marcus had slunk over him, cock in hand.

“Open your mouth.”

Ben started to argue but Marcus clamped a surprisingly strong hand around his jaw, forcing his mouth to stay open. “Yeah, that’s perfect.”

Marcus’s thighs bracketed Ben’s neck. He started to jerk himself off, frantically. Ben watched him, still breathing hard. He felt warm liquid running down his chest and he realized it was his own come, dripping out of Marcus, which would have been disgusting if it wasn’t so damn sexy.

“Fuck!” Marcus shouted, his eyes closing, head leaned back, mouth open. Ben closed his eyes just in time. A warm spatter of liquid shot over his cheek; the rest pumped onto his lips and mouth.

Marcus forced Ben’s mouth closed. “That’s good, swallow all of it for me.”

Ben opened his eyes and shot Marcus a glare. He swallowed, reluctantly.

Marcus let go of him, falling to the bed next to him and sighing. Ben grabbed a tissue from Marcus’s bedside. He dabbed at his face, trying to rescue whatever was left of his dignity.

“Oh, now that I can talk again, hey—fuck you! Next time you feel like coming on my face, how about a little warning?”

Marcus laughed. He sounded exhausted. His face was as flushed as it ever got, the veins in his forehead standing out. “Sorry.”

“No you’re not!” Ben tried to muster indignation but his tone softened seeing how tired Marcus looked.

“You can clean up in the bathroom. There should be a towel on the back of the door.”

“Want to shower with me?” Ben liked the idea of Marcus tucked underneath him in the hot water.

“In a minute.” Marcus waved his hand. “I need to...just lay here for a bit.”

“Okay.” Ben stood up, grabbed his boxers off the floor. Marcus lounged on the bed, waxy and still as a corpse.

 _Fucked the life out of himself,_ Ben thought. He closed the door softly. He could let Marcus rest.

For now. He would give Marcus an earful in the morning.


	13. Chapter 13

The next morning, Marcus had to go into the studio.

“I left an important book over there!” He protested as Ben tried to snatch him back into bed. “You can come with me. It’s not that long a walk.”

“I hate walking.”

“Alright, wait for me then.”

“What’ll I do while you’re gone?”

“You can’t find something to do for an hour in my absence?” Marcus said pointedly.

“Oh fine, since you won’t stop asking, I’ll go with you.”

Marcus smiled. “It’s a nice day out.”

“It’s nicer in bed.”

The walk was nice, Marcus was right. They stopped to get bagels at a shop on the corner. The sky was very blue, peeking out between the buildings. Ben sipped his coffee and wondered when the last time he had actually heard birds was. He was never up this early.

After a few more blocks, they reached the building, a strange, corporate place that cost way too much but was a marked improvement from the basement of the restaurant they had been renting. It was deserted; all the drones were off for the weekend.

They went upstairs in the elevator. Marcus pulled out his key and opened the glass door; Ben followed him inside.

Ben gripped Marcus’s waist and pulled the smaller man to him. After the exploration the night before, he was feeling brash.

“Here?” Marcus smiled, bemused.

“Why not?”

“It’s not very private.”

“That’s kind of what I like about it.”

“My little exhibitionist. I’m so proud.”

“Am not.”

“You went from straitlaced to public gay sex in a month. I’m impressed.”

“It’s not that public. No one’s here. You’re perverse! You corrupted me.”

“Mm, sounds like excuses.” Marcus wrapped his arms around Ben’s neck. “That was all you, baby.” Marcus snickered and kissed him. Ben could feel Marcus still smiling against his mouth.

“Stop.”

“What?”

“Smiling.”

Marcus let go of Ben and put on an overserious face. “Is this better?”

“No.” Marcus stood completely still Ben unzipped Marcus’s hoodie and it dropped to the studio floor.

Marcus stretched his face into a huge grin. “How ‘bout now,” he said through gritted teeth.

Ben ignored him, working to take off Marcus’s shirt. Marcus held his arms limp by his sides.

“This would be a lot easier if you’d move your arms.”

Marcus held his arms up, straight towards the ceiling, unbent so taking his shirt off was impossible.

“You are just, the living end.”

Marcus smiled. “You’re gonna have to beg me for it.”

“Please, Marcus. Oh, please,” Ben said, completely monotone.

Marcus shrugged and started walking towards the desk. “Your loss.”

“What, that’s it?”

“Yup.” Marcus kicked his backpack aside and sat in the desk chair, facing away. “Unless you can convince me differently.”

“Please, Marcus?” Ben said incredulously.

“That’s better.”

Ben walked over, swiveling the desk chair towards him. Marcus leaned his head back. Ben put his arm over the back of the chair, confining Marcus in.

“Please, Marcus?”

“I’m listening.”

Ben glanced at the glass studio door. The hallway was empty. He took a breath and dropped to his knees. Ben took Marcus’s fingers and put them in his mouth, sucking gently. Since it seemed to be what got Marcus going, Ben bit down gently on Marcus’s fingers. Marcus’s mouth opened and his brow drew. Almost unconsciously, Marcus ran a hand over himself.

“Enjoy watching me make an ass of myself?” Ben asked.

“Yes, I do.” Marcus smiled a little.

Ben sprang Marcus’s belt clasp and undid his fly. He started to stroke through Marcus’s boxers. Ben slipped his hand under Marcus’s underwear and grasped his dick, starting to pump slowly.

He waited until Marcus was fully hard to lean in and whisper, “Please, Marcus. Please.”

Marcus opened his eyes and regarded Ben intensely for a moment.

Finally, he said, “If we get caught, everyone’s going to know.”

Ben stopped. “I know.”

“And you’re sure you’re okay with that?”

“Are you not okay with it?”

Marcus eyed him. “I’m fine with it. But there’s not as much on the line for me.”

“Is that supposed to mean something?”

“No, Ben, not at all. Just...you’re different than me. And are you sure you’re really fine with people knowing…what you want…”

Ben stood up. “And is there a problem with ‘what I want’?”

“Of course not! I also want what you want, I’m just saying…”

“What?”

“That it might be a big change for you—”

“How—”

“—for people to know you like to be dominated, by a man, let alone me! Jesus, I’m just trying to look out for you here.”

Ben’s mouth was a long, firm line.

“I’m sorry. I care about you. I want this to go how you want it to go.”

Ben met Marcus’s gaze. “I appreciate it. But it’s going to go exactly how I want it to go.”

He grabbed Marcus out of the chair, and lifted him into the air.

“Oh!” Marcus squeaked. Marcus struggled to get a hold on Ben’s shoulders, wrapping his legs around Ben’s waist.

Ben grabbed the back of Marcus’s hair and kissed him hotly. Marcus kissed back slowly, with growing intensity as he settled into Ben’s grip. Ben pushed the books on the desk to the side.

He set Marcus down on his back. As they kissed, Ben started to work down Marcus’s jeans with one hand. He slid under Marcus’s boxers and closed around his cock.

“More—”

Ben sped up.

“No, pick me up again.”

Ben slid his hands under Marcus’s ass to support his weight. He carried him to the nearest wall and pressed his back against it, wedging his hips underneath Marcus to support him.

Ben kissed Marcus’s neck, sucked hard until he could feel Marcus’s throat start to rumble in a moan. There would be a dark purple and crimson stain on Marcus’s neck in the morning, and that satisfied him. He repeated the same again, and bit down, feeling Marcus shudder.

Ben shifted his weight and ground his hips into Marcus’s body.

Marcus groaned. “F-fuck me. God, please fuck me.”

Ben looked up, surprised. “Won’t that hurt you?”

“Maybe.”

“Are you sure?”

“Let me down for a sec.”

Ben set Marcus on the ground. Marcus dropped to his knees, lost no time in unbuttoning Ben’s fly, pulling down his jeans and boxers. “I’m gonna try to get you nice and wet.”

Marcus put Ben in his mouth, sucking with an urgency Ben wasn’t expecting. It was as though Marcus needed Ben inside him that instant, which was so fucking hot it made Ben want to come right then.

Baseball. The Knicks, Red Sox, god, fuck, Marcus was doing that thing with his tongue.

Marcus pulled back and spat on him. “Think that’s the best I can do. I know you’re excited but try to go easy on me, darlin.”

“I’ll try.” Ben backed Marcus onto the desk. Marcus took off his jeans and boxers. Ben lifted Marcus’s t-shirt over his head. He traced down Marcus’s chest before gently pushing him onto his back.

Ben gingerly gripped himself, trying not to waste any of the saliva. He slid inside Marcus with a little resistance.

“Is that okay?”

“It’s okay.”

Ben pushed forward hesitantly.

“Christ, Ben, I’m not made of glass, you can move.”

“Right,” Ben thrust very gently.

“Ben?”

“Yeah?”

“On the wall.”

Ben scooped him up, moving carefully. “You really like this, huh?”

Marcus nodded.

“Here goes nothing.”

Ben started to press in slowly, grinding into Marcus, pushing Marcus into the wall. Marcus made a sound deep in his throat.

Marcus repositioned, wrapped himself around Ben more tightly. “Oh God, yeah, right there. Just like that.”

“I’m not hurting you?”

“No baby, it’s so good. God, you are just so…” he trailed off.

“Big?” Ben offered.

“Exactly.”

They quieted, each feeling their own body. Ben was starting to strain with the effort of holding Marcus up to punch into him, and there was starting to be friction between the two of them. He steeled the muscles in his legs and started to rut faster.

“Yes,” Marcus’s fingers clenched around Ben’s neck. “God, yes…”

Ben grunted. He wedged a leg under Marcus to take his weight onto his hip, using his freed hand to stroke Marcus’s cock. Watching Marcus finish would surely make him come, or at least get him close. Marcus clenched around him.

“Oh, Ben...” Marcus’s eyes screwed shut and his mouth opened. He was pulsing in Ben’s hand. Ben moved faster, spurred on by the soft sounds Marcus was making.

Marcus’s cock jerked and he was coming between them, onto Ben’s hand.

Still holding on tightly with one arm, Marcus lifted Ben’s hand and licked the come off his fingers. “Tastes good.”

“Yeah?” Ben was unsure what to say.

“You going to come for me, big guy?”

“Working on it.” Ben turned and lowered Marcus onto the desk on his back. He pulled out of Marcus, and they both winced.

Marcus asked, “Would you jerk off for me?" 

“Uh, sure.”

Marcus spat on him. Ben took himself in his hand.

“Did you like fucking me?”

“Yeah."

“You liked those panties last night, too.”

“Ugh, God yeah.” Ben’s body got tight remembering Marcus rubbing himself in the silky underwear.

“I could get some more lingerie for you if you’d like. More thongs?”

Ben nodded, jerking himself faster. He pictured Marcus’s ass in a strappy thong. He liked that idea a lot.

“Maybe next time I can just move the thong out of the way so you can fuck me. Would you like that Ben?”

Ben nodded quickly.

“Did you want someone to catch us today? Did you want someone to walk in while you were fucking me?”

Ben whined, his pace on himself frenzied now.

“Maybe you’d like it if someone watched you fuck me in that dress. Maybe just in a pair of little panties?”

The idea of that made Ben’s head spin and his dick get hot. Marcus bent over the desk, dressed hitched up as Ben fucked him. Grabbing onto the sides of Marcus’s ass to pound into him and feeling the straps of the thong under his hands. Someone walking in to see them disheveled and groaning. It was so embarrassing and maybe that was why he wanted it so badly; the ultimate humiliation, to be caught inside of Marcus.

Ben’s eyes closed and he shot onto Marcus’s pale stomach, dribbling over Marcus’s half hard cock.

“Oh, that’s so good. So good of you, Ben.”

“Yeah?” Ben panted weakly. Marcus patted him on the arm.

Ben walked over and slumped in the chair. Marcus stared up at the ceiling.

After a moment, Marcus said, “Hey, Ben?”

“Yup?”

“No rush but um, could you get me something to clean this off with?” The come was running down Marcus’s side.

“Fuck, yeah I know we have some tissues around here somewhere. Let me get my pants, I’ll find them.”

“I’ll just be here. Iced like a damn Cinnabon.”

“Okay, okay, I’m hurrying.” Ben pulled an old receipt from his jeans pocket. “Will this work?”

Marcus took the receipt, folded it, and scooped the come onto a piece of printer paper. He folded it into a rectangle.

He held it out. “Fan mail? It’s for you.”

Ben wrinkled his nose. “God, gross.”

“You love it.”

Ben smiled ruefully. “Yes, unfortunately, I love you.”

Ben turned bright red as he realized what he had said. The silence was palpable.

Marcus bit his lip. “Well, uh, we should get dressed.”

“Yep. Yeeep.” Ben slipped on his pants and retreated to the hallway, tail between his legs.

Marcus hadn't said it back. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed my FUCKING novella, hahaha. If you made it this far you get a gold star :)


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